


And Let The World Spin Madly On

by cerie



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-18
Updated: 2011-06-18
Packaged: 2017-10-20 12:39:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/212856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerie/pseuds/cerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spoilers through season two of Sanctuary, with mentions of End of Nights and Sleepers specifically. Hurt/comfort in nature. Written from Will's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Let The World Spin Madly On

For as long as he could remember, Will had been an insomniac. He always figured it stemmed from the death of his mother, the abandonment of his father--all very textbook psychological attachment issues channeling themselves into one wicked case of late-night restlessness. It’d been nightmares when he was young but now it was just sleeplessness, filled in by work. Before the Sanctuary, that work had been reading journal articles or writing his own. When he’d dated Meg, her late-night shifts at the hospital had coincided nicely with his own lack-of-sleep habits and he played it off as waiting for her to come back. She usually didn’t argue, at least in those early days, because Will was pretty good at deflecting and distracting.

And with Clara…well. Their relationship had been consummated in two harrowing days in the jungles of India and then played at over teleconference for the weeks afterward, she in England and several timezones ahead, again playing nicely into his own insomnia. She’d always seemed surprised when he called her early in the morning just to make sure she was awake and she’d gotten a little tender when Will played it off as wanting to be the first thing she heard in the morning; girls were always easy like that.

But as easy as it was to fool Clara and Meg, it was incredibly difficult to fool Helen Magnus. An insomniac herself, she’d explained that her longevity granted her the ability to function on very little sleep but as both the president and a member of the Chronic Insomniacs Club, Will knew a lie when he saw one. Magnus only truly slept well when all was well beneath the mansard roof of the Sanctuary and, given the flurry of activity lately, all was hardly ever well. Couple that with the death of Ashley, Druitt and Watson, and Will was pretty sure Magnus’s sleeplessness was a product of unexpressed grief. Oh, sure, she’d cried over Ashley and reached some sort of closure but her death followed so closely on the heels of Watson’s, followed shortly by Druitt. Whatever her complex relationship with the man had been, Will couldn’t deny that it’d had an effect, that everything was having an effect. But, still, if she wanted to be in denial about her insomnia and it didn’t affect her judgment, he wasn’t going to argue. Much.

Somehow, Will’s paths crossed Magnus’s on those late nights. First it was going to get a file; might as well ask since she was up, right? Then it was a cup of tea in the kitchens when one startled the other (that was usually Magnus startling him; Will had always been prone to drifting off when he was thinking about something and preoccupied.) Soon, it became tea in Helen’s office, the two of them settled on her couch and falling into animated discussions about books and music and very often things that weren’t work related. Will liked those little glimpses into Magnus’s personal life, getting to see that beneath the legendary doctor there was a woman with a bit of a sweet tooth that occasionally got teary eyed at Beatles songs.

Will suspected that she was still just letting him in on the very surface, keeping him in safe topics like music and books and plays, but he threw that out of his mind one night long after he had actually called it a night and gone to bed and he woke up to the sound of her sobbing, a spectre looming in his doorway in a long white nightgown and wild, unbound hair. He’d never seen Magnus that unwound without some parasite invading her brain and after taking a few minutes to collect himself (covered nicely by trying to find and put on his glasses), he crossed the room and escorted her over to the bed, sitting beside her on the very edge.

“Magnus? I’m guessing you’re not this upset because you dropped your favorite teacup, huh?” Humor had always been his weapon, both offensive and defensive, and Will wanted to kick himself when Magnus lifted her eyes to his, ageless blue shot blood red and mascara tracking down her cheeks. Will squeezed her shoulders again before grabbing tissues and dabbing at her face, taking a few moments to help her collect herself. If there was one thing he knew, it was that Helen Magnus didn’t like being out of control and this, this wild display of emotion, was most definitely out of control.

And while none of it was expected, Will didn’t expect to feel her touch her lips to his, the kiss harsh and her cheeks still wet from tears. He was a red-blooded man and she was a gorgeous, brilliant woman, but this was definitely not the way he wanted it to go down. On the very few occasions he’d imagined himself tangled up with Magnus (okay, more than a few, but she was way, way out of his league), it definitely hadn’t been because she was strung out and crying and sleep deprived. He grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back slightly, catching her eyes.

“Whoa, Magnus. Back up, okay? Is there something you want to talk to me about?” Magnus looked stricken, eyes darting around the room and face pale and drawn. She looked embarrassed, distraught and, judging by the state of the tissue shredded in her hand, pretty close to her breaking point if she hadn’t already passed it. The psychiatrist in Will had several tools at his disposal to get to the bottom of this but he didn’t want to go that route, not when Magnus had come to him in such an insanely-personal way. Her shoulders slumped and she took in several deep breaths, hands shaking.

“I dream about them,” she admitted finally, voice a hoarse whisper. “About Ashley and John and Watson and all the others. They all die and I stay the same, unassailable in my ivory tower. I would have given my life for any of them, Will, but I can’t. It’s not equivalent exchange. I can’t…” Will tugged her close, pulling her into his lap and stroking her hair. Stupid, probably, given that he shouldn’t be getting so attached to his boss, but she wasn’t his boss right now. She was Magnus: boss, mentor, friend, woman.

“I know you probably have been through loss more than I ever could imagine,” Will said softly, brushing his hand through her tangled curls, “But it doesn’t mean I haven’t felt this way too. It’s okay to need someone, Magnus, even someone as independent as you are. I know it has to hurt to let someone in only to lose them, but if you don’t open yourself up for that hurt, you can’t experience the good things either. I don’t want you to be bitter and miserable, okay? I care about you.”

Way more than I should, he thought silently, but this was about Magnus, not him. She nodded and straightened and Will could tell she was gathering her reserve again, putting on her silent armor piece by piece until she was covered in plate made not of steel but of sheer iron determination. It was admirable, except when the walls came tumbling down, and Will wasn’t ready for her to close up on him just yet.

“So uh, you don’t have to explain,” Will started, hands still stroking her hair lightly, “But what was the kiss about? Not exactly the reaction I expected when you came in here.” He hadn’t been expecting her period, but that was hardly relevant. Magnus lifted her eyes and laughed, bitter and embarrassed.

“Carpe diem, Will. I thought perhaps you could help me forget for a little while. I may be from a different era from you, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t lived long enough to know when a man watches my every step. It was admiration, at the first, and I could certainly understand that. While I am hardly conceited, I do know you’ve a great respect for me and my work and that, at first, you were a bit in awe of me. That changed, as things often do, first to a warm friendship and now to something else. Sometimes, when I wear a certain blouse or a certain pair of shoes, your gaze is more than a bit friendly.”

She flushed a little, just a hint of spring before winter settled back across her face. “It was utterly unprofessional of me and made a mockery of both our working relationship and our friendship. I can only hope you’d forgive me for such an indiscretion.”

Will laughed and, judging by the shocked look on Magnus’s face, it wasn’t the reaction she expected. “You’re pretty dense sometimes, Magnus. I wasn’t turning you down.” He cupped her face in his hands, thumbs brushing over the high arches of her cheekbones and forehead pressing against hers in a gesture that was equal parts comfort and surrender.

“I just don’t want the first time we’re together that way to be because you were upset and you wanted to lose your head for a little while, okay? At least, not completely. I completely understand using sex as catharsis, I do, but I want to know there’s some feelings behind it that are going to carry on past tonight.” He swallowed, inexplicably nervous. Magnus had come onto him, after all, so why the hell was he nervous? Should be the other way around.

“And I don’t mean just friendship. I’m not just a body.” Will was careful to keep his voice low and soothing; while sarcasm was his weapon, he didn’t want Magnus to think he thought she was using him. He didn’t exactly think that was the case. Maybe she was just tired or maybe she understood, because she nodded slowly and exhaled, some of the tension leaving her body. She touched her lips to his again, softer this time, and Will reciprocated, hand cupping the back of her skull and lips parting beneath hers. She tasted sweet, like wine, and Will vaguely recalled a bottle sent by way of Tesla to replace the ‘45 Bordeaux he’d pilfered to hide his de-vamper. Maybe it was the wine and maybe it was just her, the complex, spicy taste just simply and utterly Helen Magnus. Will eased her back against the bed as he kissed, covering her with his body but careful to keep his kiss light and unassuming. He knew Magnus could break his arm in two heartbeats if she didn’t want to be here but Will still wanted to let her know it was still her show, still all about what she wanted and just how far she wanted to go.

The kiss changed then, Magnus deepening it and scraping her teeth along his bottom lip even as her nails scratched lightly at his scalp. Still in charge no matter what, that was Magnus. Will broke the kiss to trail his lips across her jaw and kissed the tender spot behind her ear, eliciting a gasp from Magnus and a quick tip of her hips, grinding against him in a way that really, really didn’t need to happen again if he was going to hold on for very long. Will kissed her there again, getting the same reaction, and chuckled against her skin as he slid the hem of the gown upward, bunching it up around her hips so he could feel the silken skin of her thighs with his bare hand.

“Can you slow down, maybe? We don’t have to rush this. We’ve got all night, Magnus.” He felt her let out a long, slow sigh beneath him, tension ebbing out with every breath. Good. If he could ease the tension just for right now, in his bed, then maybe there was hope for the future. Will swallowed thickly and took in a shaky breath of his own, lips ghosting down her collarbones as he brushed his knuckles against her panties. He didn’t go underneath, not for right now, because he wanted to be damn sure before he crossed that line that it was what Magnus wanted and it wasn’t going to be something she’d regret in the morning. She hissed beneath him, arching her hips into his touch and Will did it again, smiling against her skin. Magnus circled the fingers of one hand around his wrist, grasping him firmly and guiding his hands beneath the silk, knuckles brushing against her bare skin.

“We’ve got all night,” Will reminded her, but it was a weak protest as he slid his fingers inside, crooking them to rub against her in concert with the lazy circles of his thumb over her clitoris. “Believe me, I’m not rushing this. You are way too incredible not to enjoy, okay?” Magnus nodded weakly, eyes shut and head turning against the pillows to muffle her cries. “We’ve got all night,” he soothed, adding a third finger and just letting them rest there for a moment, giving her a minute to adjust. “More than that if you want it.”

When Magnus’s cries took on a higher, keening pitch (Helen Magnus was loud in bed. That had been a shock and a half.), Will drew his fingers away, undressing her carefully. She calmed slightly, flush still painting her cheeks and down her chest but breathing more regular, eyes less wild. She was gorgeous, but he didn’t really expect any less; even covered neck to ankles, Magnus outshone women in far less. He brushed his hands against her breasts, ghosted his lips just beneath in a line down her stomach to where her hips flared and nipped lightly just below her navel, drawing out another long gasp from her as she dragged him upwards for another long kiss, teeth teasing and coaxing moans out of him. He felt one slim hand slide into his shorts and the strangled sound he made probably wouldn’t make him look like a suave, collected Casanova but Will couldn’t really find it in himself to care.

“Stop teasing,” she rasped simply, hand sliding against him again. Will nodded and tugged the shorts off, tossing them in an ungraceful arc to land on top of her clothes before sliding down her body to kiss and lick between her thighs. She’d told him to stop teasing and Will figured she’d meant for him to slide into her and consummate this crazy quasi-relationship of theirs but he wasn’t done teasing, not yet. Magnus’s hand rested in his hair, the other sliding down to dig sharply against his shoulder when he pressed the flat of his tongue against her before sliding the tip lazily around her clitoris. She was sensitive and Will didn’t know if that was from his earlier explorations or if she was just particularly fond of this activity and he increased the pace, a shiver running down his spine when her hips lifted off the bed, thighs tightening to push her that much closer as she called out his name and fell.

She rolled them then, pushing his hands above his head and holding them there while she slid onto him, teasing him by sliding just an inch or two before lifting her hips out of his reach. Her thighs held his own hips, leaving him with very little leverage to thrust up against her and after a few minutes of slow teasing she finally sank onto him, leaning forward as she rocked to meet his mouth in a surprisingly-tender kiss. Her hands loosened and Will took the opportunity to slide them down to her hips, guiding her into an easier pace than before. He dug into them slightly as he arched and came, fingertips leaving tiny bruises against her pale skin. Marks to remind her of the choice she’d made, maybe, or marks to look at fondly in the days to come and as a prelude to more. Exhausted, Magnus curled against his chest, long legs tangled with his. Will reached around her for his down comforter, tugging it up to her shoulders, and kissed the top of her head lightly.

“Sleep. Doctor’s orders.” Magnus giggled slightly, muffled against the warm skin of his shoulder, and he felt her nod. Will tangled his hand in her hair again, stroking down the curls to tease out the knots that nightmares and sex had worked into them and tipped her face up to look at him.

“We’re talking in the morning. No getting out of it.” Magnus nodded again, expression far more sober, and kissed him lightly on the mouth.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less of you, Will. Just let me sleep for a while?” Vulnerable. Up until this point, he hadn’t seen it, and Will brushed his thumb just against where her dimple would be. Just a ghost, now, the barest hint.

“Of course. Talk tomorrow.”

He slept better than he had in years.


End file.
